way back when i was just a little bitty boy livin in a box under the stairs in the corner of the basement of the house half a block down the street from jerry’s bait shop
and hes YELLING AND BLEEDING AND SCREAMING and im like “hey dont you get it?“
but he just keeps rolling around on the sidewalk, bleeding, and screaming, you know, completely missing the irony of the whole situation
well i know it’s a bit of a roundabout way of saying it but the whole point im trying to make here is
I
HATE
thats all im really trying to say
and, by the way, if one day you happen to wake up and find yourself in an existential quandary, full of loathing and self-doubt, and wracked with the pain and isolation of your pitiful meaningless existence